Polly and Eleanor Part 31

Drawing Polly into the house, Eleanor whispered: "I know just what you are going to say, Goody-good! You were ready to explode because you had not told me any such things as I pretended you had. But, don't you see, I had to take lots of things for granted to put the plan over in a few seconds? Suppose I had started out with turning to you every few moments for approval, where would we have ended."

"That's what _you_ think, Nolla, but let me tell you this much right here"--and Polly planted her feet firmly and lifted her head upon her proud neck, until Eleanor stood admiring her independence--"I can talk for myself, every time! Don't ever quote me again in any thing that I ever said or did. You may think it is all right because you win out on those grounds, and simply because you never have been taught properly by your mother. But _I_ know better and I won't accept any victory won on any other basis than a clear conscience. Ask Anne Stewart whether she does not agree with me on this point. Now let me tell you, that much as I had yearned to go to New York with you-all I cannot go because you took my personal rights from me. I love you and I was crazy to leave home to go to school, but I will never consent to have any one say or act for me, in any way, when I am perfectly able to do so for myself."

"Oh, Poll! I don't mean it that way--don't you know I only did it to help you out?" cried Eleanor aghast at the turn in events.

"Who asked you to help me out?" demanded Polly, her blue eyes emitting sparks of fire.

"Why--wh--y--you see I had to win your father over!"

"But _who_ told you so? You know very well that it was your own pride in your ability to _talk_ that made you take the bit between your teeth.

But you will learn now, that I intend driving my own steed, and will not allow others to whip my mount!"

Eleanor was silenced as she began to review the very recent talk she had given out on the terrace. Polly was right!

"It hurts me to tell you this, Nolla, but it is best that we have a clean slate from this night on. You are awfully clever and witty, too, but you do exaggerate something terrible! I cannot sit tamely by and accept all the things you say of me and our plans. Why, we scarcely said a dozen words about college and Europe!"

"But I did it all for your sake," was all Eleanor could offer in self-defense.

"That's just it! I _will not_ have any one say they had to tell lies to help me along. If I can't paddle my own canoe through the rapids, I can go ash.o.r.e. But I will balk every time another tries to turn me from the course I know to be my true one. So there!"

"Polly dearest! Do you mean that after all I have done to get Dad here and win your father's consent to your going, that you refuse to leave home--just because I colored my words a bit too vividly?"

"You can color your words as rashly and with as vivid colors as you choose, Nolla, but I say that when you begin to infer that the coloring is of _my_ choosing and that I am in hearty sympathy with the way you win out in matters, then I will balk and if necessary, deny it in the future. I _hate_ color when it is daubed on falsely!"

Eleanor stood self-conscious of her mistakes, and Polly sent her one sorry look and then walked into her room. Eleanor did not dare follow as she was too awed by her friend's honest speech. And she admired Polly all the more for daring to tell her the unvarnished truth about her proclivity to prevaricate.

"It always was my weak spot," grumbled Eleanor to herself, as she walked slowly to the kitchen to see if Sary was there to keep her company. But the big cool kitchen was empty, so the girl sat down in the wooden chair and thought.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WHO ASKED YOU TO HELP ME OUT?" DEMANDED POLLY.

_Polly and Eleanor_ _Page 257_]

"If I had had a different training maybe I wouldn't be so ready to lie,"

murmured Eleanor. Then, suddenly sneering at herself she added: "Poor fish! Can't even accept what you know is a fact without trying to blame it on some one else. You've scorned Bob for being such a fool, but here you are, ten times worse, because you have wits enough yet you pervert the use of them. Eleanor Maynard, I just feel as if I wanted to give you the biggest hiding you ever heard of!"

As she knew of no way in which to inflict this punishment upon herself, she cried instead. From a prolonged sniffle that caused her to wipe her eyes on her dimity sleeves, she began to weep freely. And finally, heart-broken sobs shook her slender frame. By this time her eyes and nose were rivers of salt-water and the poor girl had no handkerchief.

Just when she felt compelled to turn up her skirt to use the ruffle of her white petticoat, Anne came in.

"Why, Nolla! What has happened?"

"Oo-h, Anne--I lost my handkerchief!"

"Is that all, darling! Here use mine--It's clean. But don't cry over a trifle like that. It is sure to be somewhere about the place."

Before Anne could dry the flooded eyes and hold the bit of white linen at Eleanor's nose, the girl broke into a merry laugh--so close were tears and laughter in Eleanor's makeup.

"Oh, oh--Anne! I didn't mean _that_ that was what made me _cry_! But I am so disgusted with myself--that is why I am weeping. If some one would only whip me soundly, I would feel _so_ much better!"

"Oh, I see! you're crying because you are so selfish, eh?"

Eleanor looked up astonished. "Selfish--no, I want to be thrashed, you know."

"And because you cannot get what you think you want, you sit out here and weep! Oh come, Nolla! come out on the terrace and let your Dad see how happy you are!"

The very illumination that came with Anne's unexpected words choked the sobs in Eleanor's throat, and she meekly followed Anne to the pump where cold water was dashed upon her red eye-lids. As she dried her face on a clean towel that hung back of the door, she thought: "Yes, sir! Even in howling for a licking I was fooling myself into believing I was doing the right thing! Oh, Nolla, Nolla! how much you have to change your old ways of thinking and talking before you can feel as honest and wise as Anne Stewart or Polly!"

CHAPTER XV

COMINGS AND GOINGS

It was very late when the doctor reached the ranch, that night, and having examined the still unconscious man, p.r.o.nounced his opinion to the men who had accompanied him from the house.

"It's a bad concussion on the brain, I believe, following a slight fracture of the skull. He has suffered internal injuries, too, from the slight examination I can make here. But we can do nothing for him under these conditions. He ought to be in a hospital in Denver where an operation could take place."

"Would it be a risk to try and carry him there?" asked John, anxiously.

"He won't suffer during the trip, if that is what you mean, as he is unconscious of physical pain. And the sooner he could be operated upon the better. He will slowly pa.s.s away if left like this," returned the doctor.

"But to-morrow's Sunday, John, and no trains run to Denver until Monday noon," said Tom Latimer.

"There's the morning milk-train, you know," suggested the doctor. "If I explained the case, they would gladly take these men on and turn them over to the physicians at Denver."

"Then we'd have to get them in to Oak Creek to-night," added Mr.

Brewster.

"You'd have to fix up some sort of hammocks in the wagon to spare the poor fellows any jolts. If it can be done, I will wait and ride back with them," said the doctor.

"We'll turn the ranch inside out and upside down in order to help in any way," hastily a.s.serted Mr. Brewster. Then turning to Jeb, who stood watching the scene, commanded him.

"Jeb, get out the truck wagon--the one with the chestnut posts on either side--and hook up four of our best horses. While Jeb is doing that, we will get the two hammocks from the girls and fix up some sort of mattress in each. These hammocks can swing from the posts. I'll go with the doctor and see that no little thing is overlooked."

"John and I thought of going in, Mr. Brewster, and if three are going, you would not have to take this trip to-night," said Tom.

"W-ee-ll I would rather not use myself up in riding all night without being able to do any good to any one, if you young men will go in my place," Sam Brewster sighed.

"An' Ah'll drive the four hosses, cuz, yuh know, it's no joke seein'

ahead of th' hosses' noses along that trail in th' dark," announced Jeb, in a matter-of-course tone.

"Jeb, if you would! It will be a great relief to know you are driving--you are such a wizard with a four-in-hand," exclaimed John, smiling suddenly at Jeb.

"Wha--Ah hed no idee you-all diden know Ah was goin' t' do th' drivin',"

returned Jeb, surprised at the others for their lack of comprehension.

It was twelve o'clock that night when all was ready and the great wagon lumbered past the ranch-house. The women were all grouped on the porch, silently praying for the safe transportation of the unfortunate schemers from New York.